Tales of an Emerald City Scandal
by Navona
Summary: While living in the Emerald City, Milla runs into a familiar face. Multiple het and slash pairings. Now complete.
1. Hood

**Title: **Tales of an Emerald City Scandal 1/6**  
Fandom: **Wicked – bookverse  
**Rating: **PG-13 for series**  
Pairing: **Multiple pairings but the focus is Milla/Elphaba**  
Summary: **While living in the Emerald City, Milla runs into a familiar face.**  
Notes: **For my table of wicked prompts  
**Notes 2: **Wow, I haven't written a multi-parter in years. Oh, and I kind of cheated with my table here. I used a different prompt for each chapter. This one was #5: hood.

"Have a pleasant evening, Miss Milla," the butler said, holding the door open for Milla to step out of. Milla didn't bother to reply, instead raising her hands to protect her hair from the rain, and stepping into the carriage that was waiting for her.

The driver flicked the reins and the horses set off at a trot. Milla relaxed back into the seat, closing her eyes. It had been a horrid party. The champagne served had been tasteless, the music dull, and the only single young men there were all dressed unfashionably and were rather plain.

_Well_. Milla's fingers twitched as she remembered the tall young man given the job of directing carriages, who had certainly seemed to return Milla's look of interest. Still, Milla was of an age now where it was high time she found a husband. The stable boy certainly wouldn't do. All in all, the whole night had been a waste of the new gown she wore.

Milla's eyes snapped open as the carriage bounced, and then drew to an abrupt halt. She heard the driver jump down on to the road.

"Apologies, Miss," the driver said, putting his head inside the carriage, the rest of his body out in the rain. "One of the horses has lost a shoe."

"Never mind that," Milla snapped impatiently. She was cold, tired and eager to get home. "You can fix that later."

The driver twisted his mouth to the side. "Sorry, Miss, but she can't go on like this."

Milla glanced around. They were in the Low City. Even at this late hour, children sat on footpaths clutching begging cans, and Milla could hear the rowdy shouts coming from the pub the carriage had stopped outside. "And what would you have me do?" she inquired icily. "Sleep in the carriage? In _this_ area?"

"'Course not, Miss." The driver pushed out his jaw. "I'll get a man from the pub there; we'll have the horse fixed in no time."

"I'm sure," Milla replied. "Well, go on then."

The driver disappeared into the pub, and Milla sat back once more. The blasted horse _would_ go and do something like this. She snapped her bag open and shut irritably.

When the driver had not reappeared in a few minutes, Milla pursed her lips in annoyance. She supposed someone had offered him a drink, and the ungrateful man had taken it, forgetting about her entirely.

Milla stood up. This simply wouldn't _do_. Chin held high, she let herself out of the carriage, approaching the pub. She would find him, and if he was in there having an ale and a laugh with some other men, he would find himself out of a job in the morning.

The bouncer whistled at her as she walked in, and only profound irritation stopped her from eyeing him appreciatively and asking if there was a more secluded corner they might find to talk in. Instead, she clutched her bag tightly, holding the skirts of her silver dress off the ground, and stalked past him, into the pub.

It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, and for the dull roar in her ears to separate into the noise of talking and laughing from the patrons present. Milla looked around, one eyebrow raised in distase. She had never entered a pub like this – it was far below her standing after all – and she found herself rather glad. Boisterous youths and rough looking men seemed to be the main clientele, while voluptuous young women dressed in almost nothing circled amongst them carrying trays of drinks. They seemed not to mind as the men leered at them, occasionally reaching out to grab some part of their bodies.

"Hello, Love." One of them the women grinned, coming to stand before her. "You lost?"

Milla stiffened. She kept her eyes trained firmly on the woman's face, rather than letting them stray to where they didn't belong. "No, I am not," she replied tartly. "I've simply lost my driver. He came in here to find a man to help re-shoe one of our horses. Have you seen him?"

The woman made a show of looking around. "Haven't seen him," she drawled. "But I'm sure he'll turn up sooner or later. They all do." She winked. "Why don't you come and have a drink? Do you good." She grasped Milla's forearm and pulled, and Milla stumbled after her, too shocked to protest.

"Here you are, then," the woman said, depositing her in front of the bar. "You just have a nice drink, and I'm sure your driver will turn up eventually." She caught the eye of the bartender. "Give this one whatever she likes, on the house," she said. She slapped Milla on the behind, and then disappeared into the crowd before Milla could object.

The bartender glared over at her.

"One minute," he growled, and turned back to the bottle of amber liquid he was opening. Milla turned away, leaning against the bar. Where _had_ the blasted man gotten to? If he was in here, he couldn't have missed her. Almost every man in the place was stealing glances at her. Milla scanned the room intently. She still couldn't find him.

Her gaze fell onto the person sitting next to her at the bar. Whether the person was male or female was difficult to tell, for they were clothed head to foot in a thick black robe. A hood threw the stranger's face into shadow, obscuring it, making it impossible for Milla to make out anything more than the sharp jaw line and sharper nose.

The stranger's head turned towards her. "Didn't you ever learn it was rude to stare?"

The voice was deep, but unmistakably female. Milla blinked. "I merely wondered why it was you were clothed so," she said, her tone bored. "Clearly you do not keep up with the latest fashion trends."

The stranger pushed back her hood, letting it fall to her shoulders.

"Would this please you more?"

Milla's mouth fell open. The stranger was definitely a woman, but like no other woman Milla had ever seen. She had strong features, a hawk-like face, startling black eyes. Long, silky black hair, released from the hood, fell over her shoulders and down her back, ending in irregular patterns suggesting a lack of attention. What's more, the woman's skin was _green_.

"Well," said Elphaba, for Elphaba it was. "Does my appearance please you?"

Milla swallowed sharply. She remembered Elphaba from Shiz, of course, but they had never so much as spoken a word to one another. After the strange green girl had vanished off the face of Oz during their second year, Milla had never given the girl another thought, except to wonder why Glinda seemed so distraught. To be faced with her now, in a dirty pub in the Emerald City, seemed almost too fanciful as to be true.

"You -," she managed, her voice almost a squeak. "You're -,"

"Green, yes," Elphaba said smoothly. "How astute of you to notice."

The bartender appeared in front of Milla, using a rag to wipe over a glass. Milla tried not to notice how filthy it was. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Elphaba turn back to her drink. "What'll it be then, _Miss_?" The bartender emphasized the honorific, and Milla felt her cheeks flush.

"Whisky," she said promptly. "A double, if you would." The bartender raised an eyebrow at her, and then turned to get the drink. He poured it quickly, and watched as Milla tossed it back. His eyebrows lifted in a grudging respect. "Another, please," Milla said. He turned away again.

"Had a rough night?" Elphaba's voice was mocking. "Had a curl strewn out of place?"

Milla's hand went instinctively to her hair, before she recognized Elphaba's insincerity. She said nothing. She and Elphaba had never been friends, certainly, but she saw no reason for Elphaba to be so viscous. She faced determinedly forward as she tossed back her fresh drink, not saying a word. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Elphaba smirk.

"I expect you're not here by choice?" Elphaba said, the smirk still on her lips.

"No. Necessity," Milla replied, without turning to face her. "And I do wish you'd stop bothering me," she added tartly.

Elphaba turned away abruptly. "Certainly," she said, her tone somewhat bitter. "Of course, when you're complaining about this tomorrow, you can tell them it was '_that Fae, who was _ever so bothersome_ at that _dreadful_ pub.'_"

Milla bit back a grin in spite of herself; Elphaba had sounded so like Glinda from their early days at Shiz. Then her mind caught up with what Elphaba had said, and she couldn't help turning to the green woman as she repeated, "_Fae_?"

"Yes," Elphaba said. "That is my name. And," she said, her voice suddenly formal. "Might I inquire as to yours, my Lady?"

"You – you want to know my_ name_?" Milla repeated, surprised.

"Yes." First the first time, Elphaba looked confused. "I trust you have one?"

"I – yes, of course," Milla snapped. "I -,"

She stared for a minute, unable to speak. Elphaba didn't recognize her. Well, Milla conceded, she did look rather different than she had used to in university. She was older now – taller and more elegant, and she had no defining feature that would identify her anywhere, not like Elphaba.

"I'm Milla," she said. "Miss Milla."

She waited for a spark of recognition to light up in Elphaba's eyes, but it didn't come.

"Miss Milla," Elphaba murmured, reaching out, her gloved hand taking Milla's own and raising it to her lips. "It's a pleasure to meet you." She kissed the backs of Milla's fingers flirtatiously. Milla swallowed, her eyes locked on the other woman's, uncomfortably aware of the feeling at the pit of her stomach. She mentally chastised herself. This was not a handsome young man with whom Milla could enjoy some harmless fun. This was Elphaba, and it would not do to flirt.

But the whisky she had consumed, plus the champagne from the party, made her feel confident and dangerous. She thought back to the girl she had known back at Shiz – the one who had gone by Elphaba instead of Fae – and she remembered the question she had always longed to ask her. She thought now, protected as she was by the alcohol in her system, and the freedom of anonymity, she could.

"Miss -," and she caught herself, because she had almost said 'Elphaba', "Miss Fae. Are you green all over?"

Elphaba's grin was wicked. "Why, Miss Milla," she said. "Would you like me to show you?"

Milla felt a smile crawl over her lips. "Thank you, Miss Fae," she said. "That would be much appreciated."

Suddenly Elphaba was on her feet, pulling Milla up by the hand she still held.

"Come on, then," she whispered into Milla's ear.

She led her out the back door into the alley behind the pub. The rain beat down around them, and Elphaba instantly pulled them under cover. Milla laughed, her heels slipping on the wet ground, and as Elphaba caught her, she leaned in to kiss her.

Elphaba kissed back instantly, her hands tightening on Milla's hips, and Milla took a step backwards, pulling Elphaba with her, aiming to lean against the wall.

"No," Elphaba murmured, breaking away from her lips and holding her tight. "You'll ruin your pretty dress if you lean on the wall with that." She maneuvered them to face the other way, her own back now resting against the brick. She pulled Milla closer.

Milla leant further into Elphaba, her hands traveling up her sides, her mouth open and hungry. Elphaba's hand slid from her waist to her breasts, cupping them, and Milla's back arched without her consent.

"My – my Lady?" Milla broke away from Elphaba, gasping, and turned to see her driver standing at the entrance to the alleyway. "The – the horse is ready to go." Even at this distance she could see his cheeks were red.

Milla gaped for a moment and turned helplessly back to Elphaba, at a loss for what to say to the driver. In the intervening seconds, however, Elphaba had pulled her hood back up, and in the darkness, under the loose fitting black cloak, she could have been any man Milla had picked up. Milla felt a momentary rush of gratitude.

"I'll see you again," she whispered to Elphaba. Elphaba did not reply, instead turning and vanishing back inside the pub. The noise filtered out through the open door, and Milla found herself wishing she could follow Elphaba back inside.

Instead, she turned away, walking a little unsteadily back to the carriage.

"Alright, Miss?" the driver asked, as he helped her into it, and Milla nodded, already feeling the after effects of too much to drink.

Still, she reflected. It had been well worth it. This part of town was certainly worth another look.

II

"Simply dreadful," Milla murmured to Miss Ashford as they watched the Lady Mance, who'd just walked into the party on the arm of her new husband, and was dressed in a long gown that sparkled from top to bottom.

"So gaudy." Miss Ashford wrinkled her nose in distaste. "And that belt! What _can_ she thinking of?" She looked around, and then looped her arm through Milla's. "Personally, Darling, I think you and I are the best looking women in here."

Milla paused to look the young Miss Ashford over, and then nodded politely. She didn't dispute the fact that she herself was the best looking in the room, but Miss Ashford's gown was somewhat lacking in style. Added to that, she had become rather plumper in these last few weeks. Milla hid a smile. Perhaps she should begin a rumour that Miss Ashford had somewhat looser morals than could be required for a good marriage.

"Oh, look," Miss Ashford hissed suddenly, squeezing Milla's arm too tightly. Milla tried not to wince in annoyance, reminding herself that Miss Ashford was quite young, after all. "Miss Milla, _look_! Do you see who's just walked in? It's _Master Alex Proteger_!" She glanced at Milla for a reaction and, receiving little, pressed on, 'Don't you know who he is? He's the son of Lord Keylis Proteger, you know, who owned all those settlements near the border of Munchkinland – before he died, of course, and passed them all on to Alex. He's said to be wickedly rich and _dreadfully_ handsome. And rumour has it, he's looking for a Lady of his own!"

Milla looked towards the front of the room, disguising her interest. Greeting the host, she saw a tall, attractive young man, with curly brown hair and bright blue eyes. He was dressed, of course, to the highest fashion. The man glanced around the room, his eyes landing on Milla. Milla met his gaze, smiling a little, her head tilted to show off her eyes to their best advantage, and then she dropped her gaze demurely, turning to Miss Ashford as if to speak to her.

"Oh, Miss Milla," gasped Miss Ashford. "He's coming our way!"

"Really," Milla murmured. She did not look around.

"God evening," a smooth voice said from behind her, and Milla turned. The young man stood before her, a smile on his lips.

"Good evening," Milla replied. She waited.

"I am Master Alex," he said, his eyes locked on Milla's. Milla smiled charmingly.

"My name is Miss Milla," she replied. "And my friend, Miss Ashford." Miss Ashford smiled. Milla noted that the girl was almost shaking with nerves.

"Ch – charmed," she managed, and then blushed a flaming red.

"Miss Ashford," Milla said smoothly. "Why don't you fetch us all a drink?"

"Of – of course," Miss Ashford said, and hurried off. Milla turned her smile on Master Alex.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," he said. "I'm new in this part of the city, and I've been looking for new – associates." His gaze roved over her, lingering on her curves. Milla was quite sure she knew what type of associate he meant. Normally, she reflected, she would be quite happy to oblige him, but Master Alex was exactly the sort of man who could end up as a very good husband, and moving too quickly now would damage all hope of that.

"Of course," she demurred, looking down as if shy. "You have moved here alone, then?"

"Sadly." He nodded, the smile still on his lips. "I am indeed alone." His slightly raised eyebrows sent a message, and she answered the unspoken question with a smile of her own.

"Here we are." Miss Ashford was back with three tall glasses of champagne.

"Thank you," Master Alex said, taking his glass with barely a look at Miss Ashford. He smiled. "Well, it's been a pleasure meeting you, girls," he said, his words directed to both of them, but his smile entirely bestowed upon Milla. "I fear I must speak with Lord Hayesley. He wants to hear about my estates." He wrinkled his nose slightly, and Milla heard herself giggle in response. Master Alex looked rather pleased with himself.

"I'll see more of you, I hope," Master Alex added, as he turned.

"Oh, don't worry," Milla said under her breath, as she watched him greet an older man with a handshake. "You most certainly will."


	2. Offering

**Title: **Tales of an Emerald City Scandal 2/6**  
Fandom: **Wicked – bookverse  
**Rating: **PG-13 for series**  
Pairing: **Multiple pairings but the focus is Milla/Elphaba**  
Summary: **While living in the Emerald City, Milla runs into a familiar face.**  
Notes: **For my table of wicked prompts  
**Notes 2: **I kind of cheated with my table here. I used a different prompt for each chapter. This one was #19: offering.

"Begging your pardon, you wish to go _where_, Miss?"

"You heard me." Milla glared at her driver. "Carnavon Street."

It was a different driver on duty tonight, and he hesitated. "Carnavon Street – in the Low City?" he ventured.

"For goodness sake, _yes_," Milla snapped. "What other Carnavon Street is there?"

The driver blinked his confusion, and then his expression cleared to a professional respect. "Of course, Miss." He held open the carriage door for her. "Not a problem, Miss."

The carriage set off, and she sank backwards, her heart beating a little faster than normal. She was dressed plainly tonight, in a simple dark frock with no adornment, and low black shoes. Her hair was not done up in her usual style of elaborate curls, but flowed freely down her back. She wore minimal makeup. She would not fit in with the crowd of the pub – even dressed as she was, no one could make _that_ mistake – but she hoped to be a little less conspicuous.

"Stop here," she said sharply, and the driver pulled up outside the pub she was looking for. He stepped around to help her out, and then stood, awaiting instructions.

"I've business to attend to," Milla said. "Go and find yourself a drink – up _there_." She pointed to the pubs further up the road. "I shall collect you when I'm ready."

He didn't wait to be told twice, eagerly setting off toward a drink and a game or two. Milla waited until he was out of sight, and then turned towards the pub.

She didn't hesitate this time, walking inside without a glance at the bouncer, and directly up to the bar. She scanned the room for the hooded, cloaked figure of Elphaba, hoping to find her sitting again at the bar.

She wasn't there.

Disappointment coursed through her, and she collapsed into a seat, suddenly weary. Of course Elphaba wasn't here. She had given no indication that she drank here regularly. She could be in any bar in any street in any part of the city. Milla had been a fool to come here.

"You again." The bartender was standing before her. "Didn't think we'd be seeing you." Milla looked at him, unable to bring herself to snap a reply. "What'll it be then? And mind," he warned, "you got it free last time. Don't think it'll be happening again."

Milla set her jaw. She had come for a drink after all. What matter if Elphaba wasn't here?

"Give me the strongest thing you have," she ordered. "And make it a double."

The bartender grinned.

"Right you are," he said, turning away. Milla didn't watch him as he sorted through various bottles. At last he returned, giving her a glass full of bright green liquid. Milla sniffed it suspiciously.

"What it is?" she asked him.

"It'll make all your problems go away." He winked. He turned away, and Milla raised the glass to her lips.

"I wouldn't drink that, if I were you."

Milla gasped, only barely managing not to spill the drink, and turned sharply.

Elphaba was not wearing the hooded robe tonight, but wore instead a simple black dress that left her green hands and face exposed. The dress was somewhat more fitted than the robe had been, and Milla saw a hint of the curves Elphaba might possess. The unexpected glimpse of Elphaba's femininity enthralled her as much as it surprised her.

Milla swallowed. "And why shouldn't I drink it?" she challenged, gripping the glass tightly but not sipping from it.

"Because," Elphaba said. "There's probably something in there that will leave you, come morning, in an alleyway with your valuables missing and a convenient lack of a memory of tonight."

Milla looked over at the barman, now busy serving another customer, and put the drink down. She didn't look at Elphaba.

"I must say, I'm rather surprised to see you here," Elphaba said dryly. "I didn't think you'd return."

Milla raised an eyebrow. "I said I would, did I not," she replied. "Besides," she leaned forward, her eyes steady on Elphaba's. "We have unfinished business."

Elphaba's lips curved in a small smile. "Indeed," she murmured. She straightened suddenly. "Well," she said briskly. "Is it to be coin or service?"

Milla blinked, confused. "I beg your pardon?"

"The pay," Elphaba clarified. "For my services as bodyguard." She nodded at the drink Milla had set aside. "That is the business you wished to settle, is it not?"

Milla stared, taken aback, until she caught sight of the smirk on Elphaba's lips that let her know she was being mocked. She stood immediately, pushing her chair back with force. "I suppose it was foolish to think one might find civil company in this part of town," she snapped, horrified to find herself genuinely upset. She turned quickly to leave. "I suppose I shall have to find a drink elsewhere."

"Miss Milla." A green hand clasped her bare forearm, and Milla halted abruptly. She stared down at it. "A lady such as yourself shouldn't allow herself to get so worked up." Elphaba's tone was amused, but this time not mocking. "Perhaps I can offer you a drink to calm your nerves?" Her hand hadn't left Milla's skin.

Milla turned to Elphaba reluctantly. "Alright. One drink." She glared at Elphaba. "But then I must be off."

Elphaba smiled, and then turned, stepping towards the pub's exit.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Milla protested. "What about the drink?"

Elphaba turned back, a grin on her face that made Milla's heart speed up. "I know a more private place that's far more suitable for a drink."

She led Milla through the men towards the door. Outside, the street was quiet, and Milla followed in silence as Elphaba led her down a side street, around a corner and down the hill, before stopping outside an old, rusty doorway.

"Watch out, my Lady," she warned. "It may not be quite what you're used to."

She led Milla up the stairs until they ended in a dark, dingy room. In the half-dark, Milla could make out a large bed, a sink, an old bookshelf and a battered chest of drawers. A black cat jumped down from the shelf and stalked past Milla, hissing.

"Hush, Malky," Elphaba said to it, and the cat hissed again, and thudded its way down the stairs. Elphaba lit a candle and turned to Milla, her face an odd mixture of green and yellow as the flame flickered. "Miss Milla. That drink?"

Milla nodded, and watched as Elphaba stooped over the drawers, retrieving a dusty bottle of cheap wine.

"I've only one glass, I'm afraid," Elphaba said. She poured it and sipped, then held it out to Milla.

"It's alright." Milla took the glass from Elphaba and held it behind her back. "I'd prefer to taste it second-hand anyway."

Before her startled mind could catch up to her body, she was pressing her lips firmly against Elphaba's. Elphaba kissed back, her hands coming up to frame Milla's face. Milla leant into her, groping blindly for somewhere to put the glass down.

"Not there," Elphaba almost gasped, breaking away from Milla's lips as Milla tried to put it on the shelf. "You might leave a mark. That is a _very_ expensive bookshelf."

Milla narrowed her eyes and put the glass down firmly, crashing her lips back into Elphaba's. "Stop that," she said. "You're no Lady, and neither am I, here." Elphaba smirked, and Milla nipped her bottom lip as punishment. She was gratified to hear Elphaba moan.

Elphaba guided her back toward the bed, and they sank together onto the hard, uncomfortable mattress. Elphaba pulled open the top buttons of Milla's dress, her hands slipping in to cup what was underneath, and this time Milla recognized Elphaba's inexperience, her clumsy touches that nevertheless made Milla squirm with pleasure. She took one of Elphaba's hands and guided it down to where she needed it, her eyes slipping shut. Here, Elphaba's inexperience was clearer still, her touches somewhat hesitant, but she was nothing if not a quick learner, and it didn't take long until Milla was arching off the bed, crying out her pleasure.

"Feel better, my Lady?" Elphaba murmured, and Milla's eyes opened.

"I will," she whispered, rolling atop Elphaba and leaning down to bite her earlobe.

Elphaba was surprisingly easy to please, given her acerbic nature. When at last she cried out Milla's name, her whole body stiffening, Milla was pleased to hear she'd finally dropped the 'Miss'.

After it was over, Milla redressed in silence. "I'll be back," she said from the top of the stairs. Elphaba, still sitting in bed, her dress halfway across the room, offered no reply.

If her driver, when she found him at a nearby pub, noticed her torn dress and disheveled hair, he knew better than to mention it.

II

It turned into a clandestine affair, the kind which Milla had never before experienced. She had had dalliances with young men, certainly, but she had never returned to them with such alarming frequency, had never been drawn to them the way she seemed to be drawn to Elphaba.

They did not get on, certainly. They quarreled constantly. Elphaba's dry insults and taunts irritated Milla to no end, and Elphaba seemed not to be able to abide Milla's social standing. Milla found that she often left far more frustrated than she had been when she arrived, though for a very different reason. And still, she returned each time.

She visited often, at least once a week and sometimes more, skipping the pub entirely and hiring a city driver to take her directly to the room where Elphaba seemed to live. On some occasions, Elphaba was already there, poring over books and documents which she refused to show Milla, and she would require some time spent in snappy conversation before she would allow Milla to kiss her, leading her toward the bed. Other times, the room was empty when Milla arrived, but Milla was content to wait, sitting on Elphaba's bed with the black cat for company. Elphaba always returned before dawn broke. On these nights, when Elphaba appeared, smelling of determination and her eyes glittering with purpose, their encounters were always harder, rougher; filled with more fervor and more passion.

Milla never asked where Elphaba had been, nor did she ask why Elphaba was so reluctant to talk about her nighttime activities. Milla herself had shared no personal information. She had not told Elphaba that she had known her at Shiz, for fear that such a reminder of the past would cause Elphaba to hide away.

In turn, Milla's staff kept their mouths shut about their Mistress's strange disappearances. They had seen her behave so before, although, as they said to one another in hushed voices, as though the walls would overhear, they had never seen her quite so taken with anybody. Whoever this young man was, they concluded in significant whispers, he must be _quite _remarkable.


	3. Dispute

**Title: **Tales of an Emerald City Scandal 3/6**  
Fandom: **Wicked – bookverse  
**Rating: **PG-13 for series**  
Pairing: **Multiple pairings but the focus is Milla/Elphaba**  
Summary: **While living in the Emerald City, Milla runs into a familiar face.**  
Notes: **For my table of wicked prompts  
**Notes 2: **I kind of cheated with my table here. I used a different prompt for each chapter. This one was #18: dispute.

"Miss Milla." Master Alex inclined his head graciously as he greeted her.

"Master Alex," Milla returned. "It's lovely to see you again."

"Indeed." He smiled, white teeth flashing, his eyes a little bored. "It has been too long."

"It has," Milla agreed politely. In fact, it had been little more than a week. In the few months since they had met, they had seen one another often at various parties and dinners. Alex always made a point to speak to her and Milla remained as charming as possible.

"But that won't be a problem for long," Alex continued, his smile growing into something like a smirk.

"It won't?" Milla blinked, keeping her expression politely neutral.

"It won't. You see," Alex stepped closer as if sharing a secret. "I've just met your father." He looked towards the edge of the room where a stately looking grey haired man was conversing with the Hostess. "And he has given me permission to court you."

For a moment, Milla was silent. This was exactly what she wanted. Alex was rich, handsome and clearly interested in her. Courting was just a step on the way to marriage; he may as well have just proposed. Alex could set her up for life.

Milla swallowed, hoping her stomach would stop churning.

"Has he, indeed?" she replied smoothly. "How delightful." She smiled, masterfully disguising her unease. Alex grinned back, reaching out to take her hand.

"We'll be seeing much more of one another," he said, his eyes flicking over her body. Milla nodded, wishing she could withdraw her hand from his clammy one.

"So we shall," she said. As politely as she could, she stepped away. "Well, I expect there will be others who wish to speak with you tonight. I shall see you soon."

She gave him one last smile, and turned, hastening towards the bathroom.

Alex was everything she had ever wanted. She still felt awful.

"Whoa, there." In her haste to get away, Milla almost tripped over a man standing by the table of drinks. He caught her around the waist, steadying her. "Are you alright?"

"I -," Milla righted herself, putting a hand onto the table, and then paused to look the man over. Her saviour was a munchkin, though a tall one; about the same height as Milla herself. He was attractive in an unconventional way, with thick, curly hair and dark eyes. He was also somewhat familiar. Milla cocked her head, trying to place him.

"Yes," she said quickly, and smiled, her first genuine one of the night. "Thank you. I'm fine."

He smiled back.

"I'm Milla," Milla said, surprised at her sudden interest in the munchkin man.

"Ah." The man nodded, his smile remaining. "Then I believe you are the one keeping company with the Master Alex?"

Milla felt herself flush. "We are courting," she said, hoping her smile didn't waver. "He asked me not ten minutes ago."

"Then he is a lucky man." He grinned at her, then cleared his throat suddenly. "I apologise. I'm new to the city; I haven't yet learned the proper manners of talking to a lady. I am Master Boq."

"Master -," Milla cut herself off, and looked him over again. "Master Boq? From Shiz University?"

He blinked. "Yes, that's right. And -," he studied her for a minute, and then broke out into a grin once more. "Miss Milla. You were friends with Miss Glinda, I believe."

"For a time, yes," Milla replied. "Though I confess our friendship did not last beyond our second year. She and the Misses Pfannee and Shenshen began to spend their time with – well – you, while I found myself quite taken with a young man from Queens who was very -."

She broke off, blushing. "Forgive me; it is impolite to speak of such things," she said quickly. "It appears it is not only yourself who does not observe manners."

"Then I am glad of it," Boq said, his smile broad and genuine. "It is difficult for a munchkin who spends much of his time on a farm to speak to ladies." He laughed, and Milla laughed back, truly happy for the first time that night.

"Miss Milla." Alex had come up behind them. His hand settled heavily on her waist and he looked hard at Boq. "Who is your new friend?"

"Oh." Milla turned, her smile slipping. "Master Alex, this is Master Boq. We attended university together."

"Charmed," Alex said, his grip on Milla tightening. She tried not to squirm. "It was nice to meet you," Alex said to Boq. "Miss Milla, come. I'd like to introduce you to my father."

Milla shot a last smile at Boq as Alex pulled her away. She didn't let herself wish she could have stayed with Boq.

II

"Fae." Milla felt her way into the darkened room. "Fae, are you here?"

There was a rustle, and something that sounded almost like a gasp from the other side of the room. Milla peered into the darkness. "Is that you, Fae?"

A candle flared into life, illuminating Elphaba's figure. Milla squinted. Elphaba wore her usual dark nightdress, but she had a curious expression on her face, something like a mixture of disappointment and relief.

"Oh, it's you," she said.

"Of course it's me," Milla replied, irritated. "Who else would it be?"

Elphaba turned away without answering, and set the candle down, illuminated now by the moonlight, the reflection making her skin seem greener than ever. Milla watched her carefully. The last few times she had visited, Elphaba had seemed – different. While she had never expressed an eagerness for Milla to linger after their encounters, Milla often stayed until morning, curled on the other side of the bed away from Elphaba, and Elphaba had never seemed displeased. Lately, though, she had seemed rushed and distracted, anxious to get Milla out as soon as she could, one eye on the stairwell the whole time, as if she was afraid somebody might come in.

Milla hadn't asked. It wasn't her business, after all.

"Well," Elphaba said, turning back and tilting her head towards the bed. "Are you coming?"

Milla blinked, surprised by Elphaba's rare eagerness, but nonetheless stepped forward, her hands coming to rest on Elphaba's hips. Elphaba pressed her mouth to Milla's without delay, more fire in her kisses than she usually used so early in the night, and Milla heard herself moan in response. Elphaba stepped even closer, her body pressed against Milla's, and it was then that Milla noticed it.

She stepped back sharply, away from Elphaba.

Elphaba raised an eyebrow at the sudden interruption. "Did I startle you?" she grinned. "I realise I'm far too forward for a lady like -,"

"You -," Milla cut her off, staring at her. "You smell different."

"Really." Elphaba's tone was scornful. "Hurting your delicate nose, my Lady?" She pulled Milla closer again.

Milla pushed her away, her eyes still wide. "Fae," she said disbelievingly. "You smell like a man." There was a beat of silence before Milla continued, "You have another lover!"

She waited, silent, for Elphaba to deny it, but Elphaba did not.

"Do I indeed?" Elphaba raised an eyebrow, a smirk on her lips. "And do _you_ not have anyone else to go to in the night?"

Milla hesitated, trying to fight back the absurd wave of jealousy. A picture of Boq flashed into her mind, along with a strange feeling on longing. "No I do not," she answered tartly.

"You do not?" Elphaba echoed. "Then who is this Master Alex that the gossip mills would have you seeing?"

Milla bit her lip and clenched her fists. Elphaba smirked.

"So jealous," she murmured. "I'll make you forget."

She stepped closer, bringing their mouths together again. Milla kissed back almost automatically, her eyes staying open.

"What's his name?" she asked between kisses.

"Does it matter?" Elphaba said, her hands roaming over Milla's dress. She grinned. "It's no one you know, I assure you."

Milla moved suddenly, attacking Elphaba's face with kisses, her hands undoing the buttons of Elphaba's nightdress and pulling it down so that the top half of her body was exposed.

"Tell me," she whispered, kissing her way down Elphaba's chest and latching onto a nipple, a hand on Elphaba's other breast, "his name."

Elphaba arched into her touch, a groan low in her throat. "No," she growled.

"Alright." Milla slid a hand down Elphaba's body, underneath her shift, finding heat. She rubbed teasingly, her other hand still on Elphaba's breast. "Now?"

"What – does it – matter?" Elphaba gasped, trying to seek more friction with Milla's stilled hand. Milla slid her fingers further, finding Elphaba's entrance and pressing in, and this time Elphaba mewled.

"It matters," Milla answered, though truthfully she didn't know why it did. She only knew that she didn't at all like the thought of somebody else in Elphaba's bed.

She moved roughly, and quickly, waiting until Elphaba's hips were beginning to buck before her hand stilled again.

"Milla…" Elphaba opened her eyes, and if she hadn't been Elphaba, she would have begged, surely.

Milla crooked her fingers, teasing, and Elphaba's hips moved again. "His name," Milla whispered.

Elphaba moaned. "Fiyero…"

_Fiyero?_

Milla stumbled backwards, pushing Elphaba away as if she'd suddenly burned red hot. "Fiyero?" she gasped. "The Winkie Prince? But the two of you weren't even _friends_! Why, I never saw you exchange so much as a single _word_ back at Shiz!"

She knew, as soon as the words were out of her mouth, that she'd said the wrong thing. Elphaba stiffened, her eyes narrowing. "'Back at Shiz'," she repeated, in a tight, closed tone. "What do you mean, 'back at Shiz'?"

"I -," Milla floundered. "I only meant -,"

But Elphaba was looking her over with an appraising, calculating eye. "Miss Milla," she said coldly. "Miss Milla from Shiz University. I believe I do remember you. You were friends with the Misses Pfannee and Shenshen, were you not?"

Milla raised her chin, refusing to be cowed. "I was," she said calmly. "And Miss Galinda, as I'm sure you well remember."

For a moment, Elphaba stared at her, her expression blank. Then she turned sharply, pulling her nightdress back up to cover herself.

"Get out," she said.

"What?" Milla took a step toward Elphaba, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Elphaba…"

Elphaba whirled around. "That is no longer my name," she cried, finally loosing her impassive expression. "And I am no longer a college student, fit to be made sport of!"

"_Sport_?" Milla repeated, startled to find tears pricking at the backs of her eyes. Arguments between them were, after all, not uncommon. "Is that what you think this is?"

"Is it not?" Elphaba demanded, her eyes flashing. "Am I not simply the green girl whom you can laugh about with your friends; is this not merely a way to pass the time before you are married and I'm gone?"

For a moment, they stared at one another, the words hanging between them.

"Well," Milla said finally, her tone icy but her voice somewhat thicker than usual. "I certainly wouldn't presume to think we are more than that. Of course I will leave."

She stalked to the stairs, and turned back. "I hope you and Fiyero are happy together," she said, and this time there was no hiding the sob in her words. She fled.


	4. Rough

**Title: **Tales of an Emerald City Scandal 4/6**  
Fandom: **Wicked – bookverse  
**Rating: **PG-13 for series**  
Pairing: **Multiple pairings but the focus is Milla/Elphaba**  
Summary: **While living in the Emerald City, Milla runs into a familiar face.**  
Notes: **For my table of wicked prompts  
**Notes 2: **I kind of cheated with my table here. I used a different prompt for each chapter. This one was #14: rough.

The doorbell rang.

Milla heard the butler open the door, and sat hurriedly, smoothing her skirts over her knees.

"Miss Milla," the butler said, appearing in the doorway of the parlor just as she'd arranged herself. "Master Alex to see you." He waited for Milla's nod before he stepped out of the way.

"Master Alex," Milla said, rising to greet him.

"Miss Milla," he returned, taking her hand and kissing it politely. "It is lovely to see you."

"And you," Milla replied. "I did not know you intended to call today." In fact she had known for days; Lady Ashford had heard it from her mother, whose footman played cards with Alex's driver. Milla had been entirely prepared for the visit.

"I am not inconveniencing you, I hope?" Alex said, his smile courteous, and his eyes expressing the thought that if he was an inconvenience, his status would surely excuse him.

"No, of course," Milla said just as smoothly. "I was merely reading."

"Excellent." Alex grinned. "I had hoped you would take a drive with me. I hear there are some wonderful spots from which to view to city quite close to here.

"Certainly," Milla said, silently cursing at the loss of her afternoon. She hadn't banked on a long visit from Alex. "There are indeed some lovely places." She gave him her most charming smile and accepted the arm he offered her. "Shall we?"

They made polite conversation during the carriage ride until the driver stopped on the top of a hill at a deserted viewing place of the city.

"Here we are," Alex said, giving Milla a hand to help her out of the carriage. He gestured to the driver to remain at a discreet distance, and then sat down on a fallen log, patting the spot next to him for Milla to join him. She sat awkwardly, arranging her skirts. She wished the spot he had picked wasn't quite so private.

"Lovely, isn't it?" Alex said, looking over the lights of the city.

"Actually," Milla said, without thinking. "I find myself rather bored with the city. I should prefer the countryside, I believe."

There was a second of silence, before Alex chuckled. "Indeed?" he said. "Well, that is no matter. I have plenty of estates in the country you can pick from. You needn't come to city at all except for parties and other functions."

_Of course,_ Milla wanted to say. _So that I can look pretty on your arm._ She stayed silent.

"Well, Miss Milla," Alex said, his hand on her knee. "I feel I should tell you, I find myself quite enchanted with you." His hand moved higher on her leg, leaving her with no doubt as to quite what he was enchanted with. Milla gritted her teeth, wishing she could smack his hand away.

"Quite enchanted," she repeated, her smile tight. "You flatter me, Master Alex."

"Please." He grinned at her. "We shall soon be married. We have no need for formalities."

"Very well then," Milla said. "Alex. Still, I must point out that we are not yet engaged."

"Quite correct, as always," Alex said. "Very well then."

He rose from the log, and then sank to one knee in front of her. Milla stared, her heart in her throat, wishing she could take back her words.

"Miss Milla," Alex said, grinning up at her in a way that let her know he was quite certain of what her answer would be. "Will you consent to marry me?"

Milla swallowed, and forced the thoughts of a curly haired, smaller man out of her mind. "Yes, Master Alex," she said. "I will marry you."

It felt like a betrayal.

"Excellent," Alex stood up, and sat back down next to her, closer than he had been before. "Well, now that we are engaged, I suppose it would not be too indecorous of me to do something I've wanted to for quite a time." He smiled, and leaned in. Milla braced herself.

Alex's mouth crashed into hers. His lips were cold, and hard, and his tongue, when it slipped into her mouth, seemed more like an invasion than an expression of passion. His hand, too hot and too heavy, cupped her face, pulling her closer. His other hand, without preamble, slipped between her legs, and rubbed her through her dress.

Milla gasped, pulling back sharply.

"Al – Alex," she panted. "No. It is – it's too soon."

A momentary look of annoyance passed over Alex's face before it disappeared. "Of course," he said, sitting back. "You are a lady. I apologise. That was too forward of me."

Milla swallowed, resisting the urge to raise a hand to wipe her lips. "I should prefer some more time to – get to know you," she said, the tiniest shake in her voice. She didn't think Alex would notice.

"Certainly," Alex said, his smile not entirely genuine. "I'm sorry if I frightened you."

"Not at all," Milla returned, sure her cheeks were flushed. "But perhaps we should return home now." She stood, not giving Alex the chance to object.

They spoke little on the way home. Alex took her hand as they set off, his big fingers forcing their way in between her own. Milla held it loosely, staring out of the window. She wished the hand she was holding was smaller. She thought of a munchkin man.

"Thank you for the charming drive," Milla said, as they parted at her front door. "It was most – enlightening."

"Not a problem," Alex returned, kissing her hand. "I'm glad you accepted my proposal."

Milla stomach lurched. "Of course," she said smoothly, turning as her butler opened the door for her. "Well, goodbye."

Alex's carriage drove away, and Milla strode inside, putting a hand to her face.

"Thank you," she said to the butler as he shut the door after her. She didn't notice as he stared after her retreating back, the look on his face showing stunned amazement.

II

"He proposed!"

Milla stalked into the tiny room above the stairwell, glad to see Elphaba there, and alone. Elphaba looked up, rising immediately at the intrusion and shoving a bunch of papers out of sight.

"What are you doing here?" she asked sharply. "I thought I made my feelings quite clear last time we met."

"He proposed!" Milla repeated, pacing the floor, her voice shaking and angry tears gathering in her eyes. "Alex Proteger has gone and proposed to me!"

Elphaba quirked an eyebrow. "And I supposed you did not turn him down," she asked.

Milla stopped pacing, and stared at Elphaba. "Are you mad?" she demanded, voice somewhat shrill. "Turn down Alex Proteger? He's the richest bachelor in the city! Any woman would kill to be his wife!"

"And yet," Elphaba observed dryly, sitting back down and turning to her book. "You do not wish to marry him."

"And why should I?" Milla said heatedly. "He's arrogant, and proud, and is certainly not interested in me for my personality!"

"Well, no," Elphaba grinned, glancing at Milla's chest. "I doubt that's what he's interested in."

Milla glared. "I might have expected that," she snapped. "I knew you'd be like this."

"Indeed?" Elphaba rose again, coming to stand before her. "And that begs the question – again – what are you doing here?"

They glared at one another for a moment, and then Milla looked away. "I don't know," she said, her voice losing some of its anger. "I haven't seen you in weeks, Elphaba."

Elphaba's eyes darkened. "That is not my name," she said, turning away once more.

Milla clucked in annoyance. "Alright then, _Fae_," she said. "Still, I've thought of you."

"Have you really no one else with whom to enjoy yourself?" Elphaba gave a mirthless chuckle. "I suppose a lady such as yourself must be careful not to encourage gossip."

Milla grabbed Elphaba, and kissed her, hard, pulling away when Elphaba began to kiss back. "Where's Fiyero tonight?" she asked.

"Not here," Elphaba said shortly, bringing Milla's face back towards her own. "Although I don't suppose you'd mind if he was." She kissed Milla lingeringly. "He could always join in."

Milla palmed one of Elphaba's breasts, enjoying the feel of a hard nipple beneath her hand. "Do you love him?" she asked, her lips against Elphaba's neck.

"Yes," Elphaba grinned, her hand slipping under Milla's shift. "Does it bother you?"

"No," Milla replied, surprised to find that it was true. "It doesn't." She hissed as Elphaba's hand found the heat between her thighs. "Come on," she said, dragging Elphaba to the bed. "And you'd better not kick me out this time."

She was almost proud to hear Elphaba's throaty chuckle.

II

"Oh!"

Milla stumbled in her shoes on the polished floor, and she felt strong arms catch her around the waist. She straightened, surprised to find a familiar munchkin in front of her.

"Master Boq," she smiled. "Why is that every time we meet, you seem to need to catch me?"

"Miss Milla," he returned, grinning. "Why is that every time we meet, you are running away from something?"

"Milla!" It was Alex's voice somewhere in the crowd behind them. Milla grimaced and grabbed Boq's hand. "Come on," she said quickly. "Hurry."

She pulled him out of the ballroom into a smaller sitting room, and closed the door behind them.

"Or you are running away from some_one_," Boq amended, frowning. "Was that your betrothed?"

"Yes," Milla said, checking to see if the door would lock. "I simply can't spend another minute with him."

"Well then -," Boq hesitated. "Forgive me if this is extremely rude," he said. "But why are you marrying him?"

Milla turned to him, abandoning the door. "You have heard of his wealth, have you not?" she asked. "A lady cannot just turn down a man like that if he consents to take an interest in her. And besides, the decision was not entirely up to Alex. I chose him of my own volition."

Boq frowned again. "But you don't like him," he objected. "He doesn't treat you well."

Milla paused. "He treats me as well as could be expected," she said, a little stiffly. "And I don't see what business it is of _yours_, Master Boq."

Boq flushed. "Of course," he said quickly. "I apologise. I just -," he spoke haltingly. "If you were my fiancé I would – I would give you everything I could."

Milla stared. "Boq?"

"I have – I have thought of you often since we met, Miss Milla," Boq said shyly.

Milla swallowed. "And I you, Master Boq," she admitted. They stared at one another for a long moment, and then Boq took her hand.

"Master Alex is a lucky man," he whispered. "And yet he doesn't know it."

The door burst open. Alex stood there, his eyes quickly taking in the sight of Milla and Boq's joined hands.

"Milla," he said, and his voice was dangerous.

"Alex," Milla said, her eyes wide, her mind racing. "Master Boq and I were just – just -,"

"Leaving," Alex growled. He grabbed her arm and pulled, painfully. "It's time to go home, Milla." He glared at Boq as they stumbled out of the room.

"Come." Alex pushed her into his carriage. "You are coming with me tonight. I have respected you thus far, but it is clear to me now that you are no lady."

"Alex," Milla protested, and quieted as he turned his angry gaze upon her. The rest of the ride was spent in silence.

His grip on her was painful, yet Milla did not dare to protest as he pulled her into his house and into his bedroom. She let him kiss her, let him undress her, and when he moved roughly inside of her, she bit her lip to block out the pain, and wished fervently that she had chosen differently.

II

"Fae," Milla said, lying back on Elphaba's bed as Elphaba pressed open mouthed kisses down her neck and onto her chest. Milla curled her fingers into Elphaba's hair. "Do you love me?"

Elphaba pulled back a little, raising herself high enough to look down at Milla. Her lips curved upwards and she chuckled.

"Well, Miss Milla," she said, sounding amused. "Do _you_ love _me_?" She bent her head again to kiss Milla's neck.

"Do you think about Fiyero when you're with me?" Milla gasped, enjoying the feel of Elphaba's tongue moving against her skin.

Elphaba sat back again. "Well, aren't you curious tonight," she said. She grinned. "Guilty conscience? Who exactly are _you_ thinking about?"

Milla pulled her back down, attacking her lips with force. She wondered what Elphaba would think if she knew just who Milla _was _thinkingabout. She decided not to find out.

When it was over, they lay silently, naked save for the sheet on Elphaba's bed. Milla was almost asleep when Elphaba's voice said suddenly, "You shouldn't come back here."

Milla opened her eyes. Elphaba was lying on her side, facing away from her. "What?" Milla mumbled.

Elphaba turned over. "You shouldn't come back here," she repeated.

Suddenly awake, Milla sat abruptly, letting the bedclothes pool at her waist. "And why shouldn't I?" she demanded. "Mayn't I feel free to do as I please?"

Elphaba sat too, pulling the sheet up to cover her chest. "Times are dangerous," she said sharply. "And I am not a safe friend."

"Well," Milla said icily. "Then it is fortunate that we are not friends."

Elphaba glared at her. "You shouldn't be so careless," she retorted. "There are things you know nothing about."

Milla got out of bed, pulling on her dress haphazardly. "And are you going to tell me what this supposed danger is?" she demanded. "Or am I expected to simply follow orders?"

"You are expected to care for your own life!" Elphaba snapped. She stood, pulling on her own nightdress hurriedly, and then pulled Milla close. She kissed her hard, and then pushed her roughly towards the stairwell.

"Do not return here."


	5. Pavement

**Title: **Tales of an Emerald City Scandal 5/6**  
Fandom: **Wicked – bookverse  
**Rating: **PG-13 for series**  
Pairing: **Multiple pairings but the focus is Milla/Elphaba**  
Summary: **While living in the Emerald City, Milla runs into a familiar face.**  
Notes: **For my table of wicked prompts  
**Notes 2: **I kind of cheated with my table here. I used a different prompt for each chapter. This one was #13: pavement.

"Miss Milla!"

Milla looked up as she exited the clothing store, her bag of purchases in hand. Boq stood before her, grinning at her.

"Oh – Master Boq," Milla said a little apprehensively. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd have a look around to see if there was anything I could send back home to my parents," Boq replied. "But now that I've run in to you, would you fancy a walk through the park with me?"

"Well…" Milla hesitated. "Alex wouldn't like it if he knew I was seeing you."

"He doesn't have to know." Boq grinned at her, and then looked around unexpectedly, his eyes suddenly wide. "He's not here, is he?"

Milla bit back a laugh. "No, he's not," she said, grinning as she saw his relief. "I believe he's in some business meeting or other."

"Good." Boq stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Miss Milla – I know this isn't my place but – you _are_ alright with him, aren't you? After last week… Well, I wanted to apologise for causing any undue – tension."

Milla smiled. Boq was sweet. "We're fine," she assured him, her voice strong through the lie. "And I think I would enjoy that walk after all."

They set off through the park, talking with abandon. As they reached the lake, Boq took her hand. Milla laced their fingers together, her heart beating rapidly in her chest.

They sat, eventually, on a bench in a secluded area.

"I haven't tired you out, I hope," Boq said, grinning. Milla glared at him, her lips twitching in a smile.

"Indeed you have not," she retorted. "I am not a lady given to fits of the vapors."

They laughed together.

Boq turned to her, still laughing, and their eyes caught and held. Milla's heart seemed to stop as Boq leaned closer in, and just before his face reached hers, she pulled back.

"Boq," she said, looking down at her lap, unable to meet his eyes. "I'm engaged." Then, looking back up at him she breathed, "Oh, but _how_ I wish I wasn't!"

"Of course." Boq stood, looking away from her. "I'm sorry, Milla. That was very improper. I should go."

"Boq," Milla protested. "Please don't -,"

She was too late. Boq had already vanished.

II

"Fae."

Milla tripped up the top step and stumbled into the pitch black room. "Fae, are you here?"

There was no answer.

Milla walked forward cautiously until she hit the bed, feeling around for the cat. It did not seem to be there.

Elphaba was quite obviously not there, but Milla wasn't bothered. She sat down, intending to wait, and then shivered as a cool breeze drifted around her. She frowned. Elphaba never kept her windows open. Milla paused, her heart speeding up in fear. She felt her way to the side of the bed, searching for the candle Elphaba kept there, and lit it.

She let out a gasp. With the new light, she could see what she had missed in darkness. The drawers were on their side, the shelves were broken. Shattered glass from the window littered the floor. There was blood in the corner.

Milla knelt to it immediately. There was a lot of it, as if a body had lain there for a while before being dragged away. It was dry, at least a few days old. Paw prints tracked the blood across the floor and out of the window.

Milla stared at it, and then stood up, looking around the rest of the room. No one had been here in probably a few days, maybe a week. Milla stood absolutely still, fighting down the panic. Elphaba would be alright. She had to be alright.

Milla stood still for another moment, working to steady her breathing her breathing, and then, losing her control, she turned suddenly to run. Hitching up her skirts, she flew down the stairs and out of the building, not stopping until the reached the pub where she'd first met Elphaba. Breathing heavily, she pushed her way past the bouncer and inside, stopping just inside the door. She scanned the room, pushing her way through the crowd, looking for a figure that wasn't there.

It was a last, desperate hope.

She collapsed against the bar, panic washing over her now. What could she do? Where could she look? She had no idea where Elphaba would go for help. Did she have friends in the city? Why had she never asked?

"My Lady." It was the bartender, standing before her with a friendly smile. "I thought we'd seen the last of you."

Milla glanced at him in annoyance, and then back with sudden inspiration. "Where's Elphaba?" she demanded, leaning forward, her hands on the bar.

"Who?" the bartender frowned.

"Oh!" Milla hissed in exasperation. "Fae!" At his blank look she continued, "The woman with green skin!"

"Oh, her." The bartender leaned back unconcernedly. "How should I know?"

"Have you seen her?" Milla demanded. "Has she been here recently?"

"Now that you mention it…" The bartender frowned again. "She's usually here every few days. I don't think I've seen her in a week or so."

"How did she seem?" Milla asked. "Was she worried? Scared?"

The bartender shrugged. "Seemed normal to me." He narrowed his eyes. "Why? What's going on?"

Milla didn't reply, working through the details in her mind. None of them helped.

"I wondered where you'd gone,' the bartender said casually. "I liked you."

Milla stepped back, staring at him in disbelief. "Liked me!" she repeated. "Last time I was here you tried to poison me!"

"Ah, well." The bartender scratched his chin. "It happens." He seemed completely unconcerned. Milla stared at him for a moment, and then turned, striding out of the pub.

She paused once she got outside, and then turned decisively. There was still one person left she could try.

II

"So," Boq said, his voice hollow. "You've been sleeping with her for months."

"Yes," Milla said.

"Even though you're engaged."

She knew what he was really saying. "Yes," she whispered.

"And you didn't," he said, his voice calm, and his mouth grim, "you didn't once think to tell somebody? To tell _me_?"

Milla swallowed. "She's not - who you think, Boq," she said. "She's different, and older - she goes by Fae now and won't hear the name Elphaba and - please Boq!" Boq had turned away, his mouth tight. "Please," Milla said again, close to tears. "I was wrong, and I'm sorry. But she's _gone,_ Boq, and the blood was everywhere and she could be - oh Boq, please help me!"

Boq turned, his expression softening a little. "Alright." He took her hand in his, and Milla instantly felt herself calm. "Don't worry, Milla. "I'll help. It'll be alright."


	6. Supervise

**Title: **Tales of an Emerald City Scandal 6/6**  
Fandom: **Wicked – bookverse  
**Rating: **PG-13 for series**  
Pairing: **Multiple pairings but the focus is Milla/Elphaba**  
Summary: **While living in the Emerald City, Milla runs into a familiar face.**  
Notes: **For my table of wicked prompts  
**Notes 2: **I kind of cheated with my table here. I used a different prompt for each chapter. This one was #16: supervise. Also, some text here was taken directly from the book.

"Any news?' Milla asked anxiously, as soon as Boq appeared in her parlor.

"No," Boq said, sinking into a chair and putting his head in his hands. "Nothing."

He looked tired, and miserable; his face was drawn and ashen. Milla herself was much the same way. Since Elphaba's disappearance a week earlier, they had been combing the city for signs of her, but it was as if Elphaba had never existed at all.

"How," Milla said again, "can a green woman hide herself so completely?"

"You know Elphaba," Boq said. "She's good at blending in."

Neither of them mentioned the other possibility; that perhaps Elphaba wasn't anywhere at all.

"You look tired," Boq said, gripping Milla's hand and studying her face. "You're not sleeping."

Milla shook her head. "I've been waiting at Elphaba's every night," she whispered. "I keep thinking - maybe she'll still come home."

Boq frowned. "Milla..."

"I know," Milla said quickly. "I know. But I can't give up on her, Boq. Not on Elphaba."

He nodded without looking at her. They sat together in silence for a few moments before Boq sighed. "It is so like Elphaba to get caught up in her cause." Looking up, he asked quietly, "Do you love her?"

"What?" Milla looked at him quickly, startled. "What do you mean?"

Boq met her gaze steadily. "You have been seeing her for months," he pointed out. "You seem -," he studied his hands. "You seem very worried about her."

Milla sighed. "I care about her," she said quietly. "But I don't love her. Nor did she love me. We were -," she paused. "I don't know what we were," she finished quietly. "But we were not lovers. In fact," Milla took a deep breath. "There is another, that I _do_ love, very much."

Boq met her gaze. Hesitantly, Milla reached for his hand, shifting herself closer. He watched her, unmoving, until her face was mere inches away from his. Then, suddenly, he cupped her cheeks in his hands and leaning forward, bringing their lips together.

Milla leant into him. Kissing Boq was different to kissing Elphaba, and infinitely better than kissing Alex. Fire flooded through her, making her dizzy. She didn't want to ever stop.

Boq pulled back after a moment, his breathing shallow. "Milla," he said. "We can't do this. I will not do this. You are engaged to Alex -,"

"Oh, Alex!" Milla cried suddenly, tears gathering once more behind her eyes. "Marry _him_, so that I can spend my time bored in the city, just another object for him to show off? No! I'll break off the engagement! I cannot marry him, and I won't! Please, Boq." she took his hand. "_Please_, take me away from here."

Boq swallowed. "It won't be easy," he warned. "A farmer's wife is never free."

"I don't care," Milla said. "I want that, and I want you."

Boq hesitated. "Well then, Milla," he said. "Will you marry me?"

Milla held his hand tightly, the tears beginning to slip out of her eyes.

"I will."

II

"Milla, look, who's here, come quickly! It's Miss Elphaba, from Crage Hall! In the flesh!"

Milla came quickly from the house. Elphaba did indeed sit in their front yard. "Oh my," Milla said tartly, "and we forgot to dress in our finery. Look who's come to laugh at us in our rustic state!"

There was a flicker in Elphaba's eyes as she looked Milla over. It had been years, now, since the panicked and ultimately fruitless search for Elphaba, and years since Milla's decision to marry Boq instead of Alex, and thus leave society behind.

Milla met Elphaba's gaze steadily. Elphaba's lips curved up into a smirk. Milla winked.

Elphaba was restless, though, eager to talk about shoes and politics in a way she never would have with Milla back in the Emerald City. She stayed only minutes, barely acknowledging her past with either of them, before she was off, disappearing down the road that they lived on.

Boq and Milla stood together, watching her go, the children playing noisily in the dirt around them.

"Well," Milla said. "At least this time we know she's alive."

II

"You know," Boq remarked later, as he and Milla sat up in bed, two of their children asleep between them. "It's funny – with Elphaba here I felt almost like – well almost like a schoolboy again. I could so easily have been back at Shiz with Crope and Tibbett, caught up in one of Elphaba's causes." He paused, and turned to her. "We thought we could change the world," he said quietly.

The children stirred, woken by the talking, and Milla and Boq gently nudged them out of the bed and into their own. Milla blew out the candle and they lay down in the darkness, the snores of the children soft around them.

"I know," Milla said quietly, once they were settled. "As soon as I saw her I could have been in the Emerald City, sneaking into the Low City to visit her and planning my grand marriage to Alex Proteger."

She heard Boq shift towards her. "Would you -," his voice was hesitant. "Would you ever have wanted it to be different?"

Milla tucked herself into his arms comfortably, pressing her face into his neck. She breathed him in; his scent of earth and home washed over her.

"No," she whispered, her eyes closed and her lips curved upward. "I would want it to be just the same."

Boq smiled, and held her tighter.


End file.
